Sand Castles
by knightshade
Summary: Michael & Bonnie. Sometimes the things worth finding are right there under your nose. But what if finding them isn't enough?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Sand Castles

Author: knightshade

Rating: PG-13 for innuendo

Disclaimer: I don't own Knight Rider – Glen A. Larson is the genius. I sincerely hope that no one is offended or bothered by my playing with the characters. I only play with them because I love them (and yes, I read Robin Hobbs).

Author's Notes: This takes place in the spaces of season 1 after Chariot of Gold. It was inspired by the convergence of several things (as is often the case for me): the song _Sleeps With Butterflies_ by Tori Amos, events in the novelizations, one out of place scene, and some wonderful conversations with Almighty Hat. Thank yous are in order, as they always are -- it's not as much fun to do this alone. Thank you to Almighty Hat for the inspiration. Thank you to Nutty for suggestions on the first scene, among other things. Thank you and love to Tomy for suggestions for scenes, POV help, and beta reads.

_**Sand Castles**_

Michael had had more than his fill of the fundraiser by the time he spotted Bonnie standing by herself at the edge of the ballroom. There were few things he liked less than hobnobbing with Foundation donors, making inane small talk, and wearing a tux. And tonight he'd managed to get himself stuck at a table with the Smits, who were notorious among the Foundation's donors for being snobby, pretentious bores. He had a sneaky suspicion that Devon had stuck him there intentionally because he'd been late. Michael had suffered through dinner and now he felt like he had more than done his duty to the Foundation. He was done mingling for the night.

He made his way across the room, taking the opportunity to admire Bonnie in her black, sequined dress. At least there were some perks to attending these things. It wasn't often he got to see her in something clingy that showed off her legs.

"You look like you could use another glass of the Foundation's very expensive champagne," he said, sidling up behind her.

She glanced down at the empty flute in her hand. "Ah, no, that's okay. I've had my share, but thank you."

She smiled and Michael was pretty sure he detected just a hint of relief there. She never complained about having to attend fundraisers, but Michael got the impression she didn't like them any more than he did.

"I see you escaped from the Smits." She had a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Yeah. I finally slipped them. Although, if they come looking, you'll have to hide me."

Bonnie grinned. "Sorry, I haven't perfected Invisibility Mode yet, but I'm working on it."

"You know I'm starting to feel like an exhibit at the zoo with a sign next to my cage that says 'How the other half lives.' Last weekend it was the super smart, this weekend it's the super rich."

He caught her cringing a little at the reference to Helios. He wondered if that was still a bit of a sore spot.

"Well, look at it this way -- how often do you get to attend $1000-a-plate dinners? You might as well enjoy it," she said, her smile still there, if lacking a little of its former luster.

"I think I'd enjoy it more with better company. And speaking of which, I was thinking of hiding out on the veranda for a while. Would you care to join me?"

"Ah . . ." Bonnie glanced around the room.

He followed her gaze to where Devon was obviously working the crowd and laughed. "No offense, but since you aren't a wealthy donor with a blank check in hand, I don't think he's going to notice you're gone."

She laughed. "You're probably right. I guess I'm in the 'other half' exhibit too."

Michael took the empty champagne glass from her and set it aside on a table. Then he held out his arm to escort her out of the crowded room. The veranda was alight with the glow of candles floating in small bowls on each of the tables. What were probably very expensive flowers completed the look. It was a warm night and they weren't the only ones who'd decided to escape the crowd. Michael led Bonnie to a table at the end of the patio, overlooking the reflecting pool. He held out a chair for her – one with a view out over the gardens. "Will this do, milady?"

She paused behind the chair and then cocked her head to the side. "Actually, it's a beautiful night. Maybe we should take a walk."

"An even better way to hide from the Smits. I think I like that idea."

Michael abandoned the table and led the way down the steps. They passed by the reflecting pool and he marveled at the fact that someone had actually taken the time to float candles in it too.

"Devon really went all out for this, didn't he?" Michael asked, watching the little pools of light that wandered across the surface of the water.

"I think it's nice – seeing the same things you see everyday in way that's a little different." She was staring wistfully down at the water as they strolled past.

"Yeah, but I'd love to know how much he paid some consultant to find just the right candles."

"You're probably better off not knowing."

Michael laughed and led the way past the pool out onto one of the many paths that crisscrossed the grounds. They strolled through columns of flowering bushes and lights made to look like lanterns. They were accompanied by a light breeze that seemed to come and go on a whim. Michael was comfortable, but he caught Bonnie shivering slightly and rubbing her arms.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

"Just a little. Whoever came up with the concept for formal wear did it backwards – the men in multiple layers of long sleeves and the woman in dresses with spaghetti straps."

"I don't see a problem with that," Michael said, grinning. She gave him one of her trademark exasperated stares as he slid off his tux jacket and draped it around her shoulders. It was a shame though. He really liked her in that dress. "You look beautiful tonight," he said softly.

"Thank you." She pulled his jacket a little tighter. "You look rather dashing yourself," she said with an appraising glance.

For some reason that he couldn't quite put his finger on, the compliment left him feeling a little off kilter. He brushed it off with a shrug. "I hate these things. I feel like I'm wearing a monkey suit."

The silence that followed was awkward and Michael wasn't sure why he suddenly felt out of his element. "So did you get Kitt's code all fixed up?" he asked to fill the heavy void.

Even through the shadows he could see the sheepish look on her face. "Yes. I think so."

"You think so?" he asked, laughing. "He's not going to go all murderous on me again, is he?"

"No. I'm pretty sure you don't have to worry about that." She slowed and stopped in the shadow of one of the large evergreens that sheltered the grounds. "Actually I'm glad we have a chance to talk. I wanted to apologize for the things I did under the influence, so to speak. I'm sorry about threatening you and reprogramming Kitt."

"So you do remember what you did while you were brainwashed, huh?"

She looked up at him, chagrinned. "Most of it. Yes."

"Don't worry about it." He playful nudged her shoulder, and started to walk again. "Next time 'Just Say No' to brainwashing drugs peddled by crazy Darwinian secret societies, okay?" He tried to say it gently and was relieved to see the corners of her mouth turn up slightly.

"I'll try to keep that in mind." She smiled but then glanced down. "Michael, I also wanted to say that I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I really haven't given you the credit you deserve."

He knotted his brow, confused.

"I just mean, in general. I've been far too quick to blame you when things go wrong and Kitt gets damaged. I know you're just doing your job."

Michael blinked. "Thank you, Bonnie." He hesitated, still confused. "But where is all this coming from?"

"I just. . . Seeing you talk Kitt out of Deauville's programming, talking me out of mine, it was impressive. It made me realize how good you are at this."

Impressive? He frowned slightly and gave her shoulder a light squeeze. "I appreciate that, Bonnie. But I don't think there was anything all that impressive about it. It was just the truth," he said softly, trying to keep his voice neutral, despite feeling a little too exposed. "Right?"

She turned away, but even in the low light he could see she was embarrassed. "Sometimes the truth isn't all that easy to recognize. Or say out loud." She turned her head slightly like she wanted to say more, but was hesitating.

"It's easier when you have to do something to help the people you care about. I had a lot of incentive."

"I suppose so. But what you said means a lot to me." She smiled up at him a little sadly and Michael again got the impression there was something else.

"I am really sorry for blaming you for things you couldn't help," she continued.

The last time they'd talked like this was when they'd been in Kitt, and Karr had been barreling down on them. He wasn't sure why they were going down this road again. Michael shrugged it off as the consequences of being in a life or death situation. "I am irresponsible sometimes. Usually I'm just trying to do my job, but it's okay if you call me on it. You're just doing your job." There were times when it hadn't been okay, times when it seemed like he couldn't do anything right. But there were other times when he knew she appreciated him even if she didn't say it.

"Either way, I'm sorry." She looked down at the path, avoiding his eyes. "If it's okay with you, I'd just like to start over."

"There's no need to start over," he said affectionately. "You may have gotten on my case a few times, but it's really nothing to worry about."

He thought that should put the issue to rest, but Bonnie got quiet again, which confused him even more. So much about her tonight was confusing. It almost reminded him of the early days when he first met her - like he wasn't quite sure where he stood. "Okay. So, where to?" he asked wanting to change the subject. "Back to the party?"

She shrugged. "We could keep walking."

"Walking it is." He slid his arm across her shoulder and let it rest there lightly as they continued down the path.

The far end of the Foundation's grounds was a little more natural than the formal gardens around the estate. The breeze had picked up just a hint and carried with it the smells of spring – the deep earthiness of fresh mulch, the tang of pine, and the sultry fragrance of flowers. Michael was used to nights like this out in the desert – he loved them. But there was something wilder here. It had rained the last few days making it uncharacteristically humid, and somehow the air seemed heavier, more alive.

He took in a deep breath. "Growing up I used to love spring nights like this. There's something about a warm breeze that just takes me back."

"For me it's the smell of pine," Bonnie said, tilting her head to gaze up at the boughs above them. Then she turned to stare at him. She held his gaze until he felt he had to look away.

"What?" he prompted.

She shook her head slightly. "Nothing."

But Michael was finally starting to figure out what she wasn't saying. And the feeling that he was off balance was starting to make sense. "Is everything okay? You seem different tonight," he asked, feeling the need to be a little guarded. He really didn't want to be wrong.

"Everything's fine." She sounded almost disappointed, but she left it at that.

They came upon the back wall of the estate – a stucco barrier against the outside world -- and followed it. They passed a dark tangle of bushes covered in white flowers that glowed softly in the faint moonlight. Their scent was almost overwhelming – pretty, but very potent. Bonnie stopped to pick one of the palm-sized blooms. She held it up near her nose and breathed in its fragrance.

"What is it?" To Michael's untrained eye, it looked vaguely rose-like.

"Gardenia. I've always loved the way they smell."

She held it out toward him and he bent his head slightly to take in the scent. As he pulled back, he caught another significant look. They had always flirted after a fashion, but something had definitely changed, and it surprised him. Maybe he had just been conditioned to ignore his attraction to her after all those early shoot-downs and death glares. But he wasn't getting glares now.

On a whim he took the flower out of her hand. He stepped forward, a little bit closer than he'd normally dare. When she didn't back away, he tucked the flower behind her ear and let his hand trail back down her hair to her shoulder again. She still wasn't backing away. Their eyes met and butterflies took flight in his stomach.

"Bonnie . . ." He didn't even know how to ask her what was on his mind. All he knew was that he'd always found her attractive and the fact that she might actually be returning his affection was a bit overwhelming. Part of him was a little unnerved about the prospect of doing anything about it. "I'm not about to make a fool of myself am I?" he asked.

"No," she said softly.

Michael leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips, still half-expecting her to object. When she didn't, he gently pulled her closer, weaving his fingers through her hair. He thought he felt her shiver against him. "Cold?" he asked pulling back and running his thumb along her cheekbone.

There was a pretty sparkle, a reflection of the moonlight in her eye. "No," she said, smiling.

They kissed again and this time Michael let himself be completely swept up in the moment.

- - -

Bonnie woke to the feel of someone lightly caressing her cheek, and then tucking her hair behind her ear. She opened her eyes, squinted against the light streaming through the window, and smiled at the man lying in bed next to her. Michael was propped up on one arm, and seemed to be studying her with an intensity that, had she been more awake, would have made her feel self-conscious. "What?" she asked groggily, meeting the gaze of his impossibly blue eyes.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said, smiling as he ran his hand over her bare shoulder. "Sorry to wake you up."

It had always secretly thrilled her when he called her beautiful. "I can think of worse ways to wake up."

"Did you sleep okay?" he asked, his fingers twining a bit of her hair.

She took in a deep breath and sighed it out. "I slept wonderfully. And you?"

"I can't complain."

There was an adorable grin playing across his lips that made her melt. He was a charmer – there was no denying that.

"So how long have you been awake?" she asked, realizing that the room was rather bright.

Michael glanced over her shoulder, to where she assumed he must have the alarm clock. "A little while."

She got the distinct impression that it had probably been longer than he was going to admit. "Sorry. With all the late nights and odd hours, I have a tendency to sleep in when I can."

"Don't worry about it. I know the feeling. For me it's having a soft bed to sleep in instead of Kitt's bucket seats."

She cocked an eyebrow. "I don't think they were designed with sleeping in mind." It was interesting the similarities in their lives that she had never really considered. He probably endured as many sleepless nights as she did, if not more.

"Are you hungry? I make mean scrambled eggs," he said, caressing her cheek and then gently rubbing at something that was probably eye shadow or a mascara smudge. He looked so intent. So . . . she wasn't sure what.

"Michael Knight's offering to cook for me? How can I refuse?" She glanced at the dress that was slung over the chair in the corner. "Although I'm afraid I'd be a little overdressed for breakfast."

"You're welcomed to go _under_dressed," he said with a mischievous leer.

She rolled her eyes and hit him playfully on the arm. "_Some_ clothes would be nice."

"Ahh, okay. Clothes." Michael kissed her shoulder before crawling out of bed. He stared into his closet for a minute and then pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"I think you might have to send a search party to find me in those."

"Oh, so now we're getting picky, huh?"

"Maybe," she said coyly.

"I'll tell you what. You're welcomed to wear anything you can find in my closet. I'm gonna go start breakfast."

"Fair enough."

Michael pulled on a pair of shorts and padded out of the room. Bonnie rolled over and dragged herself out of bed. She glanced at her dress which was resting across the top of Michael's tux. On a whim, she picked up the jacket and pulled it to her chest. It was stiff and a little scratchy against her bare skin, but it smelled like him. There was still a hint of his cologne near the collar. She took the jacket with her to the closet, found the garment bag from the rental place, and hung it up for him. She brushed it off and straightened it on the hanger. Then she hung up the shirt and pants and started going through his clothes. She stifled a laugh when she came across a very bad orange and brown polyester shirt tucked in with a few other seventies leftovers. But she couldn't laugh too hard – she had some bad disco attire hidden in her closet as well. A button down shirt with thin, vertical blue stripes finally caught her eye. She slid it on and rolled up the sleeves that were several inches longer than her arms. She smiled when she noticed that the shirt went all the way down to the middle of her thighs.

Bonnie ran her hands though her hair, wishing she had a rubber band to tie it back and then left the bedroom to join Michael. She walked into the kitchen just in time to see him leaning against the refrigerator door, sniffing a carton of orange juice. "Should I be afraid?" she asked, grinning.

Michael started. "Ahhh. I was just . . ."

"Checking?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I ahhh, I travel a lot," he said, standing up straight and grinning.

His eyes followed the stripes of the shirt down to their end and then slowly back up again. Bonnie smiled inwardly – apparently she had chosen well. "I might fall for that, except that I happen to know you've been home for a week now," she teased. "Maybe I should rethink breakfast."

Michael laughed and pulled down a pair of glasses. "You'll just have to live dangerously."

That she would. "Anything I can do to help?" she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"You could make the coffee, if you want. The filters are in the cabinet above you and there's a bag of grounds in the freezer."

She started the coffee brewing and toasted the bread while Michael finished with the eggs. They both took seats at the table, Bonnie with one leg tucked under her. Michael pulled a paper napkin off the table, set it in his lap and with what seemed like deliberate nonchalance asked, "So what changed your mind?"

She looked up at him, confused. "About?"

He studiously chased a bit of egg around his plate. "Me."

She felt her cheeks getting warm, but she'd known the question would come up sooner or later. It was a fair question.

"I don't know that it was changing my mind so much as accepting one state of mind over another."

Michael took a slow sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim. "Meaning?"

"Meaning that I've spent a lot of time trying to fight the fact that I was attracted to you. I've always been confused about you."

"And now you aren't?"

She smiled, embarrassed. "I don't know about that. I just . . . I just needed to know that I was more to you than a conquest. I needed to know that I wasn't jeopardizing my career for a roll in the hay."

As soon as she said it, she felt bad for putting it like that. It was harsher than she meant it to be.

Michael didn't take his eyes off his plate. "I wouldn't have done that, Bonnie," he said softly. "You mean too much to me for that."

He sounded a little hurt, but it wasn't as if he hadn't given her reason to worry about that. "I'm sorry. On some level, I knew that, but I needed to see it for myself. And I guess I finally did last weekend." When he'd told her that they loved each other in the museum parking lot, she had believed him implicitly. Somehow in that moment she knew it without question.

"It's okay. I can't really blame you for thinking that way. I'm glad you changed your mind though." He took a gulp of his orange juice and swirled the glass a bit before setting it down. Then he looked up with a tension-breaking grin. "So the way to get you in bed was to make you think I wasn't trying to get you in bed?"

He got a full laugh and an eye roll. "Don't make me regret this."

His smile was gone again in an instant, replaced with a tight set to his jaw. He avoided looking at her for a few seconds that felt like an eternity. Then he said quietly, "Do you? Regret this?"

She froze. That wasn't what she meant. "No. Not at all." She had never been one to jump right into bed with a man, but that was hardly the case here. They'd known each other long enough to have formed a meaningful attachment, even if it wasn't, strictly speaking, a dating relationship. And she wasn't one to do things halfway – at least not after she'd made up her mind. Bonnie reached across the top of the table and took his hand. "I definitely don't regret this. I was just joking."

"You sure?" he asked, still looking hesitant.

His demeanor was so different from the confident, lady-killer persona she was used to seeing. That in itself was proof enough for her that she had been right to trust him. She gave his hand a squeeze. "Of course I'm sure."

"Good." Michael smiled again which made Bonnie's heart skip a few beats. He leaned forward to meet her halfway across the table, clearly about to kiss her . . .

When the phone rang.

Michael groaned and he sank down until his forehead was resting against the tabletop. "There's only one person who calls me on Saturday mornings."

The phone let out the second in its series of wails and a sense of dread coiled into a knot in Bonnie's stomach. "You know if you don't answer and Kitt's here, he'll probably come looking for you." She had a feeling that would be slightly disastrous – she did not think Devon would approve. And certainly not if he caught them together like this.

Michael ignored another ring but then rolled his eyes in defeat and got up to answer it. "Yes, Devon?"

Michael listened for a moment and then let out a long suffering sigh. "It's Saturday morning." He paused again. Bonnie could hear the faint, tinny voice through the handset but she could only make out Michael's end of the conversation. "They're all very important cases and I'm not feeling well," he said with mock indignation. "Besides, you stuck me with the Smits last night. Do you have any idea how boring and insufferable they are? I deserve time off for good behavior."

He winked at Bonnie who had put her hand in front of her mouth to cover her laugh. Michael's ploy obviously worked because he ended the conversation with, "Thank you, Devon," before hanging up the phone.

He joined her back at the table looking smug. "I bought us a little bit of time. A few hours at least." He came up behind her and set his hands on her shoulders.

"No rest for the wicked, huh?" she said, looking up at him.

"Who said I needed rest?" he asked playfully, leaning down and claiming their interrupted kiss.

- - -

Michael dumped his bag in Kitt's trunk and closed it a bit harder than necessary. Normally he didn't care that much about getting a case on a Saturday. As long as he didn't have plans, it didn't really matter. But there was only one place he wanted to be right now.

"So where are we off to this time, buddy?" he asked as he got in the car.

"Missoula, Montana," Kitt answered.

"Montana?" Suddenly Michael did feel tired. "Somehow, Devon neglected to mention that." It was going to make for a long trip. He had been hoping it would be something closer to home.

"Is that a problem?" Kitt asked neutrally.

"No. It's just a long way away."

"One thousand, two hundred and twelve miles to be exact."

That didn't make him feel any better. Michael put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. He hoped he was imagining things, but the silence that followed seemed uneasy, strained. He assumed that Kitt probably knew what had happened last night, but he was still clinging to the hope that maybe he didn't. Maybe Kitt had been recharging or doing whatever it was that he did in his spare time.

"Michael, can I ask you a question?"

That blew away any illusions Michael might have had. "No," he said simply, knowing that wasn't likely to deter his partner.

"I see." It was harsh and demanding. Only Kitt could put so much disdain in two little words. Well, maybe Devon could, but Michael wasn't ready to think about that yet.

"Kitt, just drop it."

"Michael, in the short time that we've known each other, you've had a lot of lady friends."

"This is not open for discussion." There was an edge to his voice that even Michael didn't like.

"The average length of your relationships is -"

"Kitt! Enough! This doesn't involve you. We're not discussing it."

"I beg to differ, Michael. This time it does involve me."

Michael knew he couldn't argue that point. He knew he hadn't exactly been the poster boy for monogamy lately, but he didn't want to try to explain to Kitt why he didn't take relationships more seriously. And he didn't even want to promise that he was going to be more committed to this one. He was, but he didn't feel he should have to justify himself. "I don't suppose there's anything I could say that would convince you to leave it alone for now is there?"

"Michael, why Bonnie?" Kitt asked in tone that was something between plaintive and hopeless.

"Because I like her, pal. It's pretty simple."

"No, it's not simple. What's going to happen when the next blonde comes along?"

"Kitt!"

"I'm simply pointing out that your pattern of behavior does not lend itself well to a work place romance."

Michael sighed. "And when did you become an expert?"

"I've done research."

"When?"

"Well, if you must know, I started doing research on the topic when you first started asking her out. But I had plenty of time to brush up on the latest studies last night. For example, did you know that 63 of -"

"Kitt! Can it!" He took a slow, deep breath. "Look, we're both adults, okay?"

"I'm aware of that. It's just that Bonnie's important to me. You both are. And I don't want to be caught in the middle if your budding relationship doesn't end well."

"Kitt, all I can say is that I'll try not to let that happen. Bonnie's important to me too. And I wouldn't intentionally do anything to hurt her, okay?"

There was a long, begrudging pause before Kitt finally said, "I guess that's all I can ask, Michael. It just would have been easier if you'd stuck to the random women you meet in bars."

"You don't get to pick who you fall in love with."

"Really? You've fallen in love with Bonnie?"

"Kitt!" Damn his partner could be annoying. "Let's just say I have feelings for her, and leave it at that, okay?"

"I don't think I'll ever understand human romantic relationships," he said, almost ruefully. The bars on his voice modulator faded out completely before he continued. "And I think I'm going to have to have a talk with Bonnie about her taste in men."

Michael laughed, relieved that the tension was broken. It would have been a very long trip otherwise. "_I_ think she has great taste in men."

"Hmph. I happen to know there are at least two technicians who've asked about her. Very nice, upstanding men. But apparently she wasn't interested."

"I'm upstanding," he protested. "So who are these mystery men?"

"I'm not telling you, Michael. It was information that was passed to me in the strictest confidence."

"Come on, I'm your partner. Anyone I need to be worried about?"

"As I said, apparently she wasn't interested."

Michael smiled to himself as they merged into traffic on the highway. "Good to know."

- - -

(To Be Continued)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimers in Chapter 1

- - -

She knew there was something wrong as soon as he called. There was a distance, a coldness in their conversation that confused the hell out of her. There was something he wasn't telling her, and it went beyond the fact that he'd asked her to meet him in the semi but wouldn't say why. He just said he wanted information on some lawyer named Gilbert Cole, but she couldn't figure out how he fit into the current case. Not to mention the fact that Devon had said that he and Kitt had wrapped up their case in Montana and were headed home.

Bonnie was already spun up by the time the ramp went down and the familiar prow appeared behind the semi. She wasn't reassured when they parked and Michael got out of the car -- he seemed distracted and withdrawn.

"Hi there," she said hoping for a hug at least, but it seemed to barely register with him. He mumbled something that could have been 'hello' and then brushed past her to go flop down in a chair in the office section.

"Hello, Bonnie," Kitt said, almost too politely. It was almost like he was trying to compensate for his partner. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Kitt," she answered, distracted herself.

"Did you find anything on Cole?" Michael asked.

What was going on? On Saturday he'd been sweet and affectionate and now it was almost like he didn't even see her. Was she that big of a fool? Had last weekend been a complete lie, she wondered, feeling slightly panicky. She had to fight to keep it out of her voice. "He's a lawyer here in Los Angeles. But I couldn't find a connection between him and your case in Montana. Which, incidentally, Devon seems to think you've finished up."

"We have. This is something different," he said, not meeting her eyes, staring off at some point in front of him.

"Oh," she said, her mind still racing. "Well, in that case, his assistant, someone named Stephanie Mason, was just arrested by the Justice Department for having mob ties."

That hit a nerve. He gave her a fleeting look, anger clouding his eyes, and then found something fascinating to stare at on the floor.

Bonnie waited for some explanation but when it was clear that none was coming, she turned in a huff and pulled open Kitt's door, none too gently. If this woman was some bimbo he picked up in a bar . . .

Bonnie turned her attention to making the necessary adjustments to Kitt, or at least she tried to. But everything in her field of view was bathed in red. What if last weekend was just a one night stand in his mind? How could she have been that far off about him? She really thought Michael cared about her. He'd been so nervous the next morning, so worried about her regretting things. Now it seemed like he didn't care what she thought. None of this made any sense. She wished he'd just talk to her, damn it. And if he wasn't going to . . .

"So anything I should know?" she asked Kitt meaningfully. "Any problems with any of your systems?"

"Everything seems to be working fine, Bonnie," he answered, obviously taking the out she had offered him. He probably didn't want to get caught in the middle of this. She couldn't really blame him.

Michael got up and paced slowly around the office area a few times before he came over to stand next to the driver's door.

"Could you get me everything you can find on the Justice Department's case?" he asked, still avoiding any direct eye contact in a way that was just maddening.

"Why? This isn't a Foundation case."

Silence.

Bonnie stopped what she was doing and glared at him. She was done with his stonewalling. Done with his refusal to talk to her. "Who is Stephanie Mason?" she asked, letting the anger seep into her voice. He owed her that much at the very least.

Michael stood there looking at the floor like he still wasn't going to answer her. She turned away, angry, ready to just get out of the car and refuse to do anything else. This was ridiculous! But then he slowly bent down and rested his arms on the top of the door. "Bonnie, in my other life when I had a different face, when I didn't have this identity, when I was Michael Long? Stephanie and I were engaged to be married."

It felt like someone hit her with a 2x4. In an instant all her anger was snuffed out as all the implications of what he'd just said flooded in. Engaged? It took her a minute to compose herself. "Michael, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Yeah. No one knows. Except Devon. Now you."

His eyes were sad but he was almost smiling, like he was happy to be letting her in on a little bit of his life. She wondered if he had even thought about what that would mean to her. If the love of his life, who he'd lost in the turmoil of becoming Michael Knight, was suddenly back . . .

Michael's head dropped, almost as though he was reading her mind. Or maybe he was just reading her face. She needed to get out of the car. Suddenly she felt a little trapped. Too close to him.

She slipped out of the driver's seat and backed away from the door. "I've programmed Kitt with everything I could get on Cole," she said when she found her voice again. "I hope it helps."

"Yeah, me too. Thanks a lot." He turned away to get into the car.

"Michael?" He stopped and turned back to face her. She wanted to somehow let him know that she wasn't angry. But she didn't want to get into anything right now. He was on his way out to investigate and while Kitt had been quiet through most of this, he was still right there. "Be careful," was the only thing she could come up with.

He reached out to give her arm a squeeze. That was something at least. Bonnie stepped out of the way as Michael got back in Kitt and they pulled out of the semi. She leaned against the cold aluminum wall, her head spinning. She wanted to be angry – it would be so much easier that way – but she had no right to be. She felt like the rug had been pulled out from under her.

She could only imagine what Michael must be feeling right now.

- - -

The last thing Bonnie felt like doing was seeking out Michael and Stephanie, but she couldn't exactly tell Devon that. She'd been staying in the background of this case as much as possible, just doing the research Devon asked her to do. She had resisted the urge to look Stephanie up, to find out who she really was. And she had stayed away from both of them after Stephanie had been shot. She hadn't wanted to intrude, hadn't wanted to see them together. Although it looked like that was going to be inevitable now.

She wandered out into the foyer and could see that they were in the solarium. Stevie was a lot smaller than Bonnie had expected – especially standing next to Michael. She approached them slowly, not wanting to interrupt. It also gave her time to size them up. She wondered if Stephanie knew who Michael really was. Bonnie guessed she would almost have to know. There were certainly features about Michael that wouldn't have changed with his face. Things that, added together, should tip off anyone who knew him well enough. She just wondered if Stephanie was paying attention.

Bonnie looked away as Michael put his hands on either side of Stephanie's face. It was such an intimate gesture and it was so painfully clear that he still really loved her. This wasn't an ex-girlfriend. This was someone he'd been deeply in love with, who'd been taken away from him. Now she was back. And he still loved her.

It hurt to see it up close like this.

But hanging in the shadows wasn't going to make this any easier. "Michael, Devon wants you," she said, approaching them tentatively.

He barely glanced in her direction before squeezing Stephanie's shoulder. Then he brushed past Bonnie as he headed toward Devon's office, looking more than a little upset. His absence seemed to leave a big hole in the room, an emptiness. And it left the two women alone together. Part of Bonnie would like nothing more than to hate Stephanie, to see her as the problem. But of course, she wasn't. None of this was her fault and she needed their help.

Bonnie walked over to Stephanie and put her arm around her shoulder. Stephanie seemed so fragile. It probably didn't help that she was still recovering from being shot, but it went deeper than that. She was so tiny and was almost birdlike in her movements.

"Are you alright?" Bonnie asked as Stephanie smiled at her gratefully, her hands fluttering around her necklace again.

"I guess so. I don't know." She looked down. "Have you ever put your trust in someone only to find out that it was completely misplaced?"

"Of course," Bonnie said leading Stephanie to the couch so they could both sit. "I think everyone's had that happen to them at some point."

Stephanie sighed. "I was so sure they were wrong about Cole. I really thought this was all a mistake. He's been so good to me the past year. I can't believe I was such a fool."

"You couldn't have known," Bonnie said, trying to be comforting.

"I know, but it just makes me so mad."

In a way, Bonnie was envious. Stephanie could at least be angry. She had a villain to blame, someone who was clearly in the wrong. Bonnie would have preferred to have someone to go after – someone to vent her anger on. She wished there was something she could _do_ instead of just sitting here trying to cheer up the true love of the man she'd fallen for.

But the only thing she could think of was to help Stephanie, and therefore Michael, through this case. "Then let's find a way to bring him down, Stephanie," she said.

It wasn't going to make Bonnie feel much better, but at least it was better than nothing.

- - -

Kitt was pretty sure that the driving was doing Michael some good, or at least he hoped so. Stephanie was gone, Devon was cleaning up the cabin, and he and Michael were on their way home. Most of the drive had been spent in silence, but Kitt had been carefully tracking his partner's vitals and they seemed to be settling back to normal. He had even detected a decrease in the amount of moisture in his partner's eyes.

They were an hour outside of Los Angeles when Bonnie called.

"Hello, Bonnie," he said, turning off the audio feed to his cabin speakers so that he could talk to her privately.

"Hi Kitt. Devon filled me in, but I wanted to get a damage report. Are you okay?"

He was going to need a good wash and wax to get rid of the gunpowder residue but mostly he was unscathed. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Good." She sighed. "If you don't need me for anything, I was going to head home for the night. I can have Gates run diagnostics on you when you get in. He already said he'd take care of getting you recharged."

She was speaking quicker than usual and Kitt could sense the tension in her voice. He suspected that she just didn't want to be there when they got back. "That would be fine, Bonnie. Thank you."

There was an awkward pause before she quietly asked, "Is he okay?"

Kitt felt woefully inadequate when it came to understanding human relationships. He knew she was hurting -- they both were -- but he didn't know what to do to help. "I think so. Or at least, he will be." There was more than a little wishful thinking in that answer because truthfully, he didn't know.

"Thanks, Kitt. Good night."

"Good night, Bonnie. I'll see you tomorrow."

He broke the connection and re-enabled the feed to his speakers but decided not to tell Michael she'd called.

Kitt wasn't sure how to interpret the fact that since the discussion in the semi, they hadn't interacted much. But until now they hadn't seemed to be actively avoiding each other either. He didn't think that was a good sign. Kitt wished there was something more he could do.

"Almost home, huh, pal?" Michael said as the landscape around them shifted from rural areas to the bedroom communities on the edge of the Los Angeles suburbs.

"Yes, Michael." Kitt hesitated, not sure if he should bring it up. But then Michael had never been afraid to tell him to shut up. If he didn't want to talk about it, Kitt would certainly know. "Are you happy to being going home?"

Michael gazed off through the windshield. "I guess so, pal."

Kitt hesitated again. "If this is the wrong time to bring this up, just say so, but do you know what you're going to do about Bonnie?"

Michael sank back into his seat and sighed. "It's okay. I have to deal with it sometime. And to answer your question, no I don't know. I guess some of that depends on how she feels."

"Of course."

Michael hung his head. "I know this probably sounds terrible, but I've been so wrapped up in dealing with Stevie, try to help her, trying to decide if I should tell her, and what it all means or doesn't mean that I really haven't been able to think about Bonnie."

"It doesn't sound terrible, Michael. It's understandable.

"I just need some time to figure things out. Some time to think."

"Of course." Kitt couldn't do much, but he would do his best to be supportive. "If you want to talk about it, I'm not sure I'd be able to give any useful advice, but I am willing to listen."

"Thanks, Kitt, but I really think I need to get a few things straight in my own head first."

"I understand." Kitt waited what he considered to be an appropriate length of time to see if his driver was going to change his mind about talking. When he didn't, Kitt said, "Michael there is one other thing I'd like to say. I know I gave you a lecture on the way to Montana. In light of what's happened, I wanted to say I'm sorry about that."

"Why? It looks like you were right," he said with a note of dejection in his voice.

"Michael, I don't think they've done studies that cover this situation." Thankfully that got a small smile out of him. "There's no way you could have foreseen this. And whatever happens, I know you meant well. You just ended up in a situation with no easy answers. I care about both of you and I hope that together you can figure this out."

Michael tilted his head toward the voice modulator and gave the top of the dash a little rub. "Thank you, Kitt. That means a lot to me."

- - -

Why was it that Michael was only able to get time off when he didn't actually want it? The case was over. Stevie was gone – whisked away into the Witness Protection Program. Devon had suddenly grown a heart and told him that he could have some time off before they took on their next case. At first Michael had been happy to have the option of getting away, but after trying to come up with a place to go, he decided that he didn't want to go anywhere. At least not anywhere alone. It just didn't sound appealing anymore.

He'd left the confines of his suite today mostly because Kitt was threatening to pump in classical music just to get him out. But now all he felt like doing was sitting and staring at the leaves in the reflecting pool. It would have been better if they'd taken another case. He'd prefer to just lose himself in someone else's problems.

Another reflection appeared in the pool among the leaves. Michael kept his sigh to himself. He wasn't ready for this, but he knew it wasn't fair to keep putting it off either.

"Hi," Bonnie said quietly.

"Hi," he said, not looking up from the water.

"You look a little lonely out here by yourself." She paused. "But if you don't feel like talking right now . . ."

"No. It's okay. I wanted to talk to you." Eventually, anyway, he thought. Her reflection nodded and she took a seat next to him on the pool's edge.

"I've been meaning to thank you for being so nice to Stevie."

She let out a frustrated puff of air. "You don't have to thank me for that."

"I know, but I appreciate it."

"Did you really think I'd do anything but be nice to her?" she asked.

He didn't really know the answer to that. "No. But I guess I thought you'd be angry."

Her image in the water was facing him and he could feel her gaze on his face, but he just couldn't turn to look her in the eye right now.

"Michael, there was no way you could have known this was going happen. If you'd gone off with some woman you'd met in a bar, then yes, I'd be mad, but she was your fiancé. I'm not going to lie and tell you that I'm not disappointed or that it doesn't hurt, but no, I'm not angry."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know that. It's just bad timing I guess. Although it's better this way than . . ." her voice trailed off but he had a pretty good idea what she was going to say. He felt bad that it was probably very obvious to her where she stood relative to Stevie.

He let his head hang, feeling too tired and careworn to hold it up anymore. "Bonnie, maybe I just need a little time right now." That's how it had been after he'd taken on this life. He'd needed time to get over losing her, time to be able to consider taking a relationship seriously again.

She smiled sadly. "Does she know who you are?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure she knows." He hated the constricting feeling in his throat like he wasn't quite able to breathe. It was the same way he'd felt when he first saw the necklace. He wanted to punch something to let out his frustration.

"I don't think I could be comfortable in a relationship with you knowing that any day she could show up on your doorstep. It's obvious that you still love her very much."

He wanted to argue, to tell her that that wasn't likely. He wanted to say that if that happened, it wouldn't matter. But he wasn't going to lie to her. There wasn't much he could give her other than his honesty. He knew that right now, if he had to choose between them, it wouldn't be Bonnie. His heart belonged to Stevie. And she was right – Stevie knowing who he was did make a difference. When he first became Michael Knight, he'd clung to the idea that she'd mourned him and if she hadn't already, she'd move on. She had her life to live. But now she was in the same boat he was in – floating anchorless, having lost her family and friends. And she knew who he was. This time it was going to be a lot harder for him to let go of his hope that somehow they would end up together.

"I'm sorry," he said finally.

"It's not your fault. It would be nice if things were different. But they aren't," she said quietly. Then she looked away.

He took the opportunity to stop staring at Bonnie's reflection and actually look at her. The fundraiser seemed like a lifetime ago already. Impulsively he gave her a tentative hug, more for himself than anything else.

He released her and expected that he'd have the reflecting pool to himself again, but she didn't leave. She stayed there with her head down for a moment. Then she finally looked up at him again. "While we're talking there's something else I wanted to bring up. Something you should know."

There was a sinking feeling in Michael's stomach. He didn't like the sound of that. "Okay?"

"There's a post doctorate program at the University of San Francisco. I was accepted into it and I'm leaning towards going."

Michael was so tired of feeling like he was getting kicked in the stomach. "Please don't leave because of me."

Bonnie looked up sharply. "I'm not," she said firmly. "It's not that at all. I applied to the program months ago. It's a really good opportunity." She looked away and smoothed the creases in her slacks. "Obviously if things were different between us right now that would play a part in my decision. But with things as they are, I think it might be a good idea for me to take some time off," she said softly.

God, he didn't want to lose her too. "How long?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"The program runs for a year with a possible follow-on at MIT for another year."

One to two years felt like forever right now. He hadn't even been Michael Knight that long. He didn't want her to go, but it wasn't fair of him to ask her to stay either.

"I haven't formally accepted yet," she said, obviously leaving an opening for him. But it just made him feel like he was trying to hold sand -- everything was going to slip through his fingers eventually.

Bonnie didn't have to ask his permission to leave and yet she was. He really wanted her to stay, but maybe it was too hard for her to be around him right now. Maybe it really was the right thing for her to do, but it felt like hell. He choked back all the things he wanted to say. "If it's a good opportunity, you should do it." He took her hand and pulled her into another hug. "Don't get me wrong. We'll all miss you if you do go. _I'll_ miss you. But if that's what's best for you, I understand."

She leaned into his hug and rested her head on his chest.

"Bonnie, I really never meant for this to be a one-night thing," he whispered to her hair.

She pulled back to smile at him sadly. "I know that, Michael."

"I wasn't just talking you out of brainwashing in the museum parking lot either. I do love you," he said trying to fight the tears that were threatening.

"I love you too," she said putting her head back on his shoulder. Michael held her, a mixture of grief, loss, and frustration overwhelming him. He hated feeling this way.

Bonnie pulled away first and sat staring into the water for a minute. Then she glanced at her watch. "I hate to do this, but I really should get back to the lab."

"That's okay. I think I need a little time alone anyway," he said carefully.

She nodded slowly. "If you want to talk about this some more, you know where to find me."

He tried to muster a smile. He really wasn't sure if he was successful. "Thanks."

She slipped away from him and followed the sidewalk back to the estate. Michael watched her as she climbed the stairs to the veranda and then disappeared into the building.

Just when he had finally been getting himself together as Michael Knight, the tide of his life had come in again, washing away everything he'd tried to build. It left him feeling scoured, featureless, and raw. He turned around so that he could hook his knee and rest his calf on the edge of the reflecting pool. He stared at the reflection that had only recently become familiar. Picking up a small pebble next to him and tossing it into the pool, he was reminded of the conversation he'd had with Devon. It seemed like ages ago that Michael had asked him what had seemed like an all-important question.

_You telling me I can't ever love anybody?_

It was the wrong question though. It was foolish of him to even think he had a say in the matter. He couldn't help falling in love.

No, there was a much more significant question he could have asked.

_Can I ever fall in love with anyone and not be destined to lose her?_

But Michael was afraid he already knew the answer to that question.

- - -  
knightshade  
June 27, 2005


End file.
